My therapist recommended I start a diary, write down my thoughts as they start to get chaotic and see if I can calm them down. I'm kinda hoping it works but actually starting to write them down I'm really afraid. I know I'm insane, not necessarily in a bad way. At least I think so? I don't know. Like, is it crazy to sometimes imagine the world is ending and everyone is suffering, then I walk in to save the day. Just out of nowhere a sentai style monster starts destroying the city and suddenly I have the power to summon and control a giant robot.
Boom, day saved and I'm applauded.
I know everyone dreams of being a hero but I don't know, it feels weird. Like in my fantasies someone always ends up hurt and I just conveniently show up to save them. My therapist says it's me being kind, that these people in pain resemble my past, that I'm not some manipulative monster. I know she's right but despite all the people I've helped I can't help but hate myself. Like, ive stopped thirteen suicides. That's something to be proud of right? Sure I don't talk to all of them anymore but some are still really good friends with me. They say I'm really kind and sweet and silly just like my therapist but no matter how objectively I look at myself I just can't seem to agree.
Like, the first person I saved. The truth is I desperately needed a distraction when things were their worst at home. Sure I stayed up all night to comfort them and ended up losing it on that monster who hurt them in the first place but in the end, it was to avoid my own issues. Even then it's not like I'm doing a lot. It's normal to listen to your friend when they need to vent, or ask how their day went, or ask what they want to do, or occasionally say good morning, or just sit there in silence together if they need it. It's all normal so why do people act like I'm some kind of angel for it?
I guess I know it's not normal, but I don't like that. I feel like if I stop treating my actions as normal then I'll expect things like thanks or some kind of reward and I don't like that. The person I want to be is brave, strong, sweet, patient, and kind. Meanwhile I'm just a coward who knows how to wear a warm smile.
I don't know.
I don't think I'll ever know and it really hurts because there's a part of me that says it knows. Sometimes, when it's late, like right now I lose control of my head and I start to remember all the mistakes I made and all my most painful memories. I'm used to taking a beating, I'm strong but when these stupid memories and thoughts pop up it just hurts. No matter how much I scream for them to shut up they just won't stop.
I hate it.
But I manage to get through. I don't want to write it down. They pass and then I forget and then I can get back to being normal. At least until they hit me again. I don't know, my therapist said I should. But I'm scared. I can't deny how crazy I am if it's in writing. Clear, undeniable, and borderline gibberish writing, but, at this point I guess I'm desperate. I just wish I could be happy. I have so many friends and helped so many people but in the end it's all online. In the meantime, here in the real world I live alone with my dog, and when I can't find anyone to talk to, even with my dog next to me an overwhelming loneliness hits me. Life is good, people care about me, people love me. I'm supposed to be a good person if I just look at my actions alone so why can't I stop hating myself? Why is all happiness digital?
And then I start to feel crazy because I can't control my thoughts at times. Most of the time I feel okay, I can smile, laugh, and cry but sometimes all I can feel is bad. Not any particular feeling, just plain bad. I'm scared my friends saw me in these moments they'd stop being my friends but that's me just being dumb. It's thanks to them I'm even alive.
I don't know, I really do hate myself. I've made so many mistakes but for some reason I'm so loved that when I was ready to make my biggest mistake they saved me. I guess I can see why my therapist said I write things down. The negative voice is a lot quieter. My thoughts are all mine right now. Looking back I really lucked out with my friends. They're a treasure. I'm never really sure about myself, there's always that whisper in the back of my head but at least I can trust the people around me. Even when that whisper says they're wrong and I'm really worth hating, I can't help but remember my actions.
How much it hurt to see my friends cry and worry. I might not be okay, sometimes I feel overwhelmingly hollow but despite that, I'm not empty.
I think I'm starting to feel better, I don't know. At least I'm no longer thinking negatively. I wonder how long this'll last? I wish I could be normal and I didn't have to rely on so many weird tactics just to keep myself from drowning but I guess ya can't win 'em all. I don't think I'll ever be the person I want. I'm nowhere near stable or confident enough but I can be someone I can be proud of. Even if I was only kind to avoid my own issues or because I felt bad for the person I was kind right?
I don't know, I just know I want to be a good person. Maybe in another world, maybe with my own special set of powers, and maybe if by some miracle I could control the thoughts I could be that person. I don't care that I'm weird or a little bit insane since normal and sane people don't say good morning or do all the stuff a weirdo like me does. So long as the world is still the way it is, I will keep being that warm fire.
Maybe it's okay to be a little bit insane? I mean, so many like me and are friends with me. It's worth something. I just have to make sure to remember the next time the thoughts take over. I'm done, I feel a lot calmer. I hate to admit but my therapist was right.